


Angst Prompts

by Evie_adams273



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Bisexual, Bisexual Scorpius Malfoy, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Ficlets, Gay, Gen, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbians, M/M, Next Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, angst prompts, during Cursed Child, gay albus potter, ideas that I already have formed, just pure angst, mostly - Freeform, not posted daily, occasional straights, on occassion, one shots, posted when I finish them, prompt list, some mild fluff/not angst in places, sometimes, twenty eight prompts, very rare that you'll get fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28226196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273
Summary: Angst Prompts about Scorbus, Jeddy, Drastoria, The Gang and some other couples.Mainly Canon CompliantSome are AUs.Mainly Scorbus and post-canon.Lots of angst and painUpdated if and when I can be arsed.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass/Luna Lovegood, Delphi & Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Draco Malfoy & Scorpius Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Polly Chapman/Rose Weasley, Polly Chapman/Yann Fredericks, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter
Kudos: 21





	1. Grief

**Author's Note:**

> So here's just a general trigger warning for death, doom and gloom, injury, and violence throughout. I'll be more specific when it's needed.
> 
> Some of these are random one-off ideas. Some are scenes from multi-chapters that I'll probably never write. 
> 
> This was written because I need some sort of thing to get me happy stimming.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So first up we have Grief, and within that we have the Gang learning about Craig's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: character death  
> Content warning: allusions to fainting

Karl groaned inwardly as he followed Yann and Polly into Professor McGonagall’s office. Any hope he’d had had that this would not take long evaporated at the sight of two Aurors and the library of notes on the desk. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

He’d had plans for today. He’d had study plans with Craig that he fully intended to continue with, even if lessons had been cancelled, for some reason. They had mock exams in three weeks. If they made the library off-limits, Karl had very specific ideas of whose head Polly would end up ripping off. He’d probably join her.

He had so many gaps in knowledge. If he wanted to stand a chance at all the Os he was aiming for, he had to start filling things in now. The real exams were only six months away, and he had lost his last good study time because Albus and Scorpius had been fighting in the library and Polly had come and moaned about it in the Hufflepuff Common Room.

Professor McGonagall sat down at her desk, conjuring three chairs with a flick of her wand and motioning for them to sit down. Yann and Polly did so. Karl remained standing.

“Thank you for coming up so early in the morning,” she began. “Something has happened and it’s easier for us to tell you before other students find out.”

“Are we in trouble?” Polly asked.

“No, you’re not–”

“So, where’s Craig?” Karl hadn’t meant to snap, but he kept it in his voice. “You’ve got our whole group here, apart from him.”

“That is what I need to tell you,” Professor McGonagall looked as if she was about to cry.

Karl closed his eyes. He could imagine a hundred different scenarios that had befallen Craig, each more outlandish and dangerous than the last, and each more unlikely. He could run through these theories until eternity came to a close, only to be told that Craig had had to go home for whatever reason. A bad cold and paranoid parents.

“Last night, two students went missing and Craig, being a Prefect and awake at the time, ended up involved in the search.” Pause. “His body was discovered in the early hours of the morning.”

Karl’s stomach dropped. His knee buckled a little. He squeezed his eyes shut as his breathing started to quicken and he blinked back tears. He couldn’t hear what McGonagall had gone on to say. It didn’t matter.

Craig couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be gone. Karl had seen him last night. They had talked about what the Fifth Years of their group were planning to do with their post-OWL summer. Craig was set on a summer placement at a magical art school. He’d made it past the first stages of applications. He’d been full of smiles and jokes and laughter. That couldn’t just be gone because someone had said he was dead.

He couldn’t be dead.

Karl refused to believe that someone would kill someone like Craig. Craig, who had never purposefully hurt another living thing. Craig, who had stuck up for the First Years when they had been bullied by older students. Craig, who had simply tried to do the right thing and had somehow ended up being a modal human being.

He couldn’t be dead.

“How?” Karl’s voice came as a low croak.

“We believe that he was caught up in–”

“How did you let him die!” Karl screamed. “People aren’t supposed to die here! That stopped! You stopped all that after the war so how did you…” he trailed off as he swayed on his feet, stumbling backwards.

Yann leapt up to catch him, guiding him to a seat as he closed his eyes and pulled his knees up to his chest. He pulled his robe hood up, stretching the fabric so tightly that it strained his neck. He reached a hand up underneath the fabric to grab hold of chunks of his hair and pull at it to try and stop himself crying.

It didn’t do anything. He slid off the chair and landed on the floor with a dull thud. McGonagall had resumed talking. He didn’t listen. He didn’t need to listen to more bullshit about how sorry they were and how they would do their best to support them through this time and all the things that people said when people died.

None of it made a blind bit of difference. None of it changed the fact that someone had killed Craig and all Karl wanted to do was to hunt down the person who had done it. He wouldn’t hurt them. He knew that wouldn’t be what Craig would have wanted. But he just wanted to know who had done it so he could scream at them and try and make them understand what they had done.

Karl stood up, eyes only half-open so that he could make it across the room without tripping over. When he reached the door, he relied solely on the banister to help him back down to the corridor. He made his way along halls and down staircases, stopping to sink down and scream into his robes more than once.

He managed to find his way to the Slytherin, muttering the latest password and slipping in through the Common Room. He went down to the dormitories, pushing open the door to Craig’s, all without really realising what he was doing. He opened his eyes and his gaze landed on Craig’s fully-made-up, empty bed.

Karl’s knees gave way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess mainly I'm starting because I need something to post while I work on my huge projects. Hopefully, I'll have a multichapter coming in January, though I may push it by four weeks to cope with some editing issues.  
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Fuck JKR. Fuck TERFs. Fuck giving someone an award for being a bigot.  
> Black Lives Matter.


	2. Helplessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius comes out to his father, and the aftermath is messy to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Physical Assault, Homophobic Language, use of f-slur (censored) and q-slur
> 
> Content Warning: Discussion of injury

Albus glanced at his phone again, or that was what he told himself he was doing. Upon seeing the three notifications, he swiped onto Twitter and started to scroll. He went past whatever depressing news had just made headlines, laughed at a meme, and then picked up his headphones to watch a short video.

He didn’t get that far, a banner appearing at the top of his screen indicating a phone call from Scorpius. Albus fumbled with the headphones and then clicked answer as he shoved the second headphone into his ear.

“Hey,” he said. “You good?”

“I’m – uh – I’m fine,” Scorpius sounded out-of-breath. “Just bored. Out on a walk.”

“Really?” Albus glanced out the window. “It’s quite late. And raining. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I – I did something possibly stupid,” Scorpius’ footsteps were audible as he jogged along the tarmac. 

“Are you safe? Do you need me to come and meet you?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“You’re lying,” Albus put the lid back on his pen and stood up. “Scor, are you sure you’re safe. What happened?”

Silence.

Albus grabbed his jacket and keys, shoving his phone in the chest pocket of his jacket as he pulled it on. He grabbed the pair of socks he had left on his bed and the umbrella sat by the door.

“Where are you, love?” he asked. “I’m coming to meet you.”

“You don’t need to,” Scorpius said. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“What happened? You can’t say you did something stupid and then revert to saying you’re fine.”

“I came out.”

Albus froze. “Why are you outside?” Silence. “Scorpius, did you get kicked out? More silence. “Scorpius, seriously. Did you get kicked out?”

“No,” Scorpius slowed to a halt. “He didn’t kick me out. But he got – annoyed – or detached. I’m not sure. I didn’t want to stay. So I left. I’ve got a bag. I can find somewhere to stay tonight and sort this out in the morning.”

“You’re coming here,” Albus started to move again. “Where are you? I’ll come find you and bring you back here.”

“What about your family?”

“James and Lily know, and they’ll fight my dad if he’s a problem. I don’t mind raising suspicions. You are not sleeping rough when you have an option to come here.”  
Albus heard Scorpius smile. “Okay. Thank you, love.”

“Where are you?”

“On the corner by the park near school.”

“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone.”

Albus clocked the quickest route to the park near Scorpius’ house, and also which end Scorpius would be at. It was getting very dark. Finding him would be a pain if they managed to miss each other.

Albus continued a casual conversation with his boyfriend as he made his way downstairs. He pulled his shoes out from the cupboard and stuck his head around the kitchen.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said. “I’ll be back in – an hour, maybe?”

“It’s quite late,” his mum said. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“I’ll be fine,” Albus said. “I’ve got my phone on me.”

“Okay, but be back within an hour, or let me know where you are.”

Albus pocketed his keys and hurried out of the house. He jogged down the street, keeping hold of his phone.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” Scorpius said. “I’m – I’m waiting by the entrance near the lake. I’m under a streetlamp.”

“Okay, I know where you are. Just stay with me. I’ll be right there.”

Albus continued down the road, turning down one of the paths and dashing through the muddy puddles as he kept running. He could wash his trousers later. Right now, he didn’t want to leave Scorpius alone on a street corner for longer than necessary. They could come back along the roads. Scorpius didn’t like all of Albus’ little alleyways and walks along the trainline.

“He called me queer,” Scorpius said, his voice taking a quieter tone. “He said I was wrong and that the family wouldn’t like me behaving like this.”

“Fuck whether your family would want it or not,” Albus snapped, coming out onto the road again. “It’s you and they should not have a say in whether you are one thing or another. Especially when it’s not a choice.”

“Still,” Scorpius sighed. “I – I don’t think I should have come out to him. I thought it was safe – he’s never said anything particularly bad, but it – well. You know?”

“I know,” Albus nodded. He glanced up at down the road and dashed across. “I’m about ten minutes away.”

“Okay,” Scorpius said.

They remained in silence for a while as Albus moved through the various estates and parks he normally walked through on the way to school. Just the sound of Scorpius’ breathing down the phone brought a small smile to Albus’ lips. He missed his quiet times with his boyfriend that they got during termtime. Holidays were lonelier – people assumed that friends could deal with being separated where couples could not. That came with the issues of not being out to family, Albus supposed.

“Albus,” a new hush came over Scorpius’ voice, “how far away are you?”

“Is everything okay?” Albus started to jog again.

“There’s some of the older boys from school here,” Scorpius said. “The homophobic ones. I think – I think they’re drunk. They’ve got bottles with them.”

“Okay,” Albus nodded. “I’m coming as quickly as I can. Can you move?”

“Not without them seeing me. I’m out of the light now but–”

The sound of jeering laughter echoed down the phone and Albus picked up more speed. God, this was bad. This probably couldn’t have gotten much worse. Scorpius had put his phone in his pocket and the sound had become muffled, but Albus still got the gist of it. The slurs and the comments and the shoving were all very much audible.

Albus broke into a full dash down the road, giving half a second’s thought to calling the police, before dropping it and just running towards Scorpius. Getting the police involved would overcomplicate everything when he could just get there, stop them from hurting Scorpius, and get his boyfriend home.

Albus made it to the park about five minutes later, fairly out of breath, but he kept jogging until he found the area of the park Scorpius had said he would be. The phone call had gone dead a minute ago, after the boys had stolen Scorpius’ phone and started to go through his photos. They had been threatening to smash it when the line went dead.

The sight was not a difficult one to miss when Albus found it. About four or five boys were crowded around the bench, laughing and jeering as they kicked as a figure on the floor.

“He’s such a fucking f*g,” one said, his voice carrying across the park. “What about your boyfriend, then? Where’s that queer?”

Scorpius’ sobs were audible and Albus didn’t bother to stop himself from seeing red. Scorpius had tried to do something good for himself and it had led to him being beaten up. Albus would be damned if he let them lay another hand on his boyfriend.

Without thinking, he raised the umbrella he had carried all the way there (without bothering to put up), and charged at the boys. He started to scream at them to get away, simultaneously bringing the umbrella down on them, over and over again. For a moment, they looked as if they were about to retaliate, before deciding that an umbrella-waving fifteen-year-old was not worth messing with. 

“Keep your fucking hands off him,” he bellowed. “You monsters!”

Albus kept it raised as they disappeared off into the night, the last traces of them being the slurs that floated back through air as they disappeared into the shadows. Once Albus knew they were gone, he dropped the umbrella beside Scorpius’ phone and turned around to find Scorpius curled on the ground. His body had collapsed somewhat, the only sign of life being his shallow breathing. 

“Hey,” Albus approached him and knelt down on the gravel. “It’s me.”

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius pulled himself up to a sitting position. “This – this was all a stupid idea.”

Albus took in the sight in front of him. Scorpius’ hair had started to cake with mud and he had blood on his cheeks. His shirt, a floral one that Albus knew was one of his favourites, had been covered in boot-prints and occasional spots of blood. It was probably salvageable, though it would take a lot of TLC. Scorpius himself had tears running down his feet and he pulled his knees up to his chest, wincing as he did so.

“Come on,” Albus went to help him stand up. “Let’s get you back to mine.”

“What?”

“You are not sleeping rough, especially not like this.”

“But I’m – the mud…”

“Yes,” Albus nodded. “We have a shower. Come on, love. It’s not safe out here.”

Albus wrapped an arm around Scorpius’ waist, helping him to his feet. He picked up the umbrella again, as well as Scorpius’ phone (which seemed to have gotten away with just a cracked screen), and the two of them started to walk back across the park. The trip back to Albus’ house was significantly slower than Albus’ journey there, given that they had to stop several times for Scorpius to rest.

Albus made the decision that he would take Scorpius to A&E in the morning, suspecting that his boyfriend probably had at least bruised, if not broken, ribs. Albus had made this assumption given how his boyfriend continually flinched at certain touch, and it was probably better to be safe than sorry. Scorpius was sixteen. They could do this without his father being alerted.

At Scorpius’ request, they ended up taking the paths back to reduce the distance. They didn’t stop to rest while on the paths, Scorpius clinging to Albus with all he was worth. Albus texted his mum to let her know they were nearly home, and by the time they got to the right street, Albus didn’t know whether Scorpius would be awake for long enough to get cleaned up.

Albus helped him across the street and up to the house. They stopped short as they saw Draco stood in the doorway, talking to Albus’ mum, and Scorpius started to back away. He stopped when he hit a lamppost, wincing in pain but managing not to make any sound.

“–completely sure you haven’t seen him?” Draco was saying.

“Yes. Believe me, he’s hard to miss.”

“If you see him–”

“I’ll call you.”

“Albus,” Scorpius croaked as Draco started to turn around. “Albus…”

“I’ll do the talking,” Albus said. “I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

Albus stayed very still as Draco turned around, laid eyes on the both of them, and started to dash down the garden path. Albus stepped in front of Scorpius, keeping hold of his boyfriend’s hand. Draco stopped short.

“Are you okay, Scorpius? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Scorpius is staying here tonight,” Albus kept between Scorpius and his father so that his injuries were not obvious.

Albus stiffened slightly as his mum joined them at the gate, arms crossed. She looked between the three of them and Albus took a deep breath. Well. This was happening now, it seemed, and he didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Still, it would protect Scorpius. Which was what mattered here.

“What’s going on?” his mum asked. 

Albus glanced at Scorpius. “Can I say?” Scorpius nodded. “Mum,” Albus smiled, “this is not how I envisioned this, but here we are. I’m gay. I’m dating Scorpius. Scorpius came out to Draco tonight. From the sounds of it, it didn’t go well. Scorpius called me. I went to go find him and bring him back here. I told him he could stay here.”

“Right, of course,” his mum nodded. She turned to Draco. “You kicked him out?”

“He didn’t kick me out,” Scorpius mumbled.

Albus stepped aside as Scorpius straightened up and stood beside Albus rather than beside him. He watched Draco’s face drop as the sight of his son, though he didn’t move.

“He said stuff – a lot of stuff – about family traditions. I left. I thought he might – I don’t know. I don’t really know what I was thinking. I just left.”

“I’m assuming you didn’t do this, Draco?” Ginny gestured to Scorpius’ injuries.

“Scorpius got cornered by some of the boys from school,” Albus said. “I’m going to take him to A&E tomorrow.” Scorpius frowned. “Love, your ribs are almost certainly bruised, if not broken. We’re going.” Scorpius nodded. “Also, I broke the umbrella,” Albus bit his lip. “I hit the boys a bit too hard when I was getting them away from Scorpius.”

Albus smiled as he watched his mum process what he had said, holding out the bent umbrella with its sticks hanging down from between the plastic sheeting bits. His mum smiled back.

“Scorpius,” Draco started. “I’m – I’m sorry. What I said was wrong. You’re not wrong. You’re not – you’re not the words I used.”

“Well, I am,” Scorpius shrugged. “But it’s not bad.”

“No,” Draco agreed. “It’s not, and I’m sorry. I love you. I spend so much time claiming that I’m better than our ancestry in that respect, but I am not good enough, and it’s hurting you. Which is not something I ever wanted. I’m sorry.”

Scorpius nodded. “I still want to stay here tonight,” he looked at Ginny. “If I can.”

“Of course you can,” she smiled.

Draco apologised again, saying goodbye to Scorpius with an assurance that he would be at the other end of the phone if Scorpius needed him. Scorpius remained very quiet through all of this, not making eye-contact and not watching as Draco got into his car and drove away.

Albus helped Scorpius up the garden and into the kitchen. He brought the tin down from the medicine cupboard and grabbed the Savlon and some plasters. It would do for the skin damage, and he’d seen a sling they could use to alleviate pressure from Scorpius’ ribs. Albus had seen something about it in PSHE a year or so ago.

Scorpius remained very quiet through all this, refusing the offer of tea from Ginny. At that point, Albus started to fully understand the exhaustion, and how much of what he had said to Draco hadn’t been entirely true. It didn’t matter if Scorpius had called himself queer before. He wouldn’t after tonight. He wouldn’t after Draco had used it against him.

Albus set up a camp bed for himself, pulling a few blankets from the wardrobe and setting up his lamp as Scorpius perched on the bed, scrolling on his phone (they had wrapped it up in cling film to stop any of the screen coming away before they could get it fixed in the morning). He had a few tears rolling his cheeks but Albus didn’t say anything.

Scorpius jumped as his phone pinged and he clicked on a text that had come through. He immediately dropped the phone as if it had burnt him, squeezing his eyes shut and closing his hands into fists before picking up his phone again and reading the message.

He spoke a couple of minutes later. “My dad sent this.” He passed Albus the phone.

_Scorpius. I can’t make up for what I’ve done tonight, but I hope you know that I will spend a long time trying to. I am sorry. You are my son and I have failed you tonight._

_I’m will try to do better. I’ve signed up for a group for parents of LGBT+ children who are looking to do better. I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (To reiterate - f-slur is censored because I am not a gay man. Queer is not censored because it applies to me)
> 
> So I watched ETAJ, and this is what came out of it because for some reason I am a fan of writing angst on 25th December. Hope everyone who celebrated had a good few days. Hope everyone who didn't had a good few days.
> 
> A small message to everyone who had to pretend not to be themselves or to hide aspects of who they are because of safety or just not being ready to tell people yet, I'm so proud of you. You're so strong and you can do this. We'll all get through this mess of existence and there will be a point in time where we can do holidays with our names and our pronouns and our interests and by being US. Love y'all.
> 
> A warning now...I may not publish that much in the next few weeks. Coming up on some fairly significant anniversaries of trauma and I don't know what sort of position I'm going to be in to do more than school and manage doctor's appts. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for being patient with me. I'll try not to have too many cliff hangers  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Fuck JKR. Fuck TERFs.  
> Black Lives Matter


	3. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delphi, eighteen years after the events of 2020, makes a visit to Draco Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: character death, discussion of pain and suffering, murder
> 
> Content Warning: discussion of past trauma/abuse

_“During the war, I found you in the Manor. They let me look after you. I – it was the best thing to happen to me in years. After the Battle, you were gone. I looked and I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry.”_

Those words had taken sole occupancy in Delphi’s mind from the first moment Draco Malfoy had broken through the shield she had put in place around her mind. She had spent the six-thousand, seven-hundred and fifty days since planning the moment she was about to arrive on and she had no intention of letting it get away from her this time.

Priorities had changed when Delphi had first been captured. World domination, especially that which involved resurrecting her father, was a long-lost dream. If she ever escaped Azkaban, she would have hours, maybe a day at most, to complete a chosen task. She had spent four years planning the little Time-Turner incident. That option had flung itself from the table in a rather unsightly fashion.

Delphi had proceeded to spend weeks and weeks in a state of limbo, attempting to formulate some sort of plot she might be able to carry out in the event that she ever escaped. The answer had come in a rather unexpected visit from Draco Lucius Malfoy, her second meeting with the man, and her first civilised occasion (neither actively tried to murder the other). He had looked appallingly awful, and there was very little way to do justice to the shadows under his eyes, the strained lines appearing across his brow, even the robes that now looked oversized from the weight-loss he hadn’t bothered to stop. Delphi had laughed at it. She still did.

It was a rather major fall from grace for the man who had told her that he wanted her to rot, from the man whose menacing aura was felt by all in attendance of an Extraordinary General Meeting as he lurked in the corner. He had seemed so terrifying when she had met him, not that she had been scared. He had been so ready to fight her, kill her even, to protect the life of his son. Delphi admired that about him, his willingness to die for the right cause. On occasion she even admitted to herself that she was jealous of this boy who had his father’s love, no matter what. So Draco did not make the situation easier for anyone involved when he had opened his mouth to explain why he had come.

Delphi had kept her mouth shut while he had talked. She hadn’t reacted. She had appeared in good spirits about the whole thing – the obedient young woman who knew she had no hope, and therefore gave up in a gracious manner. She had been socially acceptable. If she was to only have on objective for the rest of her life, she wanted to make the fun last as long as possible.

Delphi stopped a little way from the manor, using a small comb to tease her hair into a neat ponytail. It didn’t feel particularly neat, but she hadn’t managed to wash it for four days and it wasn’t as if any other part of what she was wearing could have been considered remotely neat, with its ripped hems and holes in everywhere that wasn’t considered indecent. It almost looked fantastical, with the torn shoulder strap and the scrap of hem she had used to tie her hair up.

Delphi pocketed the comb again and continued to the manor gates. She stopped just out of range of the spell on the gates, floating upwards with a huge grin on her face. She had missed flying.

She soared over the grounds, noting where the lights were on, and making for the kitchen. She slipped in through the window, settling at the table and waiting. She lit a candle and started to examine her nails in an attempt to pass the time. She had, according to calculations she had made a few months ago, about three hours left before she was tracked down. But she had made it to the location she’d had a focal point on. If it came to it, she could just bring the building down. It wouldn’t be as satisfying as having a monologue at Draco first, but it would get the overall job done.

Delphi switched between watching the clock and watching the candle wax burn away for about half an hour before the kitchen door opened, half catching her off-guard. She sat back in the chair as Draco jumped out of his skin, and then fumbled for his wand, backing away from her. Delphi laughed. She waved her hand, disarming him and catching the wand as it flew across the room. She glanced at him and then pocketed it before standing up.

“Do you want to sit down?” she asked. “Or you could stand. Whichever you’d find more comfortable.”

“What are you doing here? If you had the ability to get out why would you not get as far away as you could?”

“I didn’t want to spend my life running from all of you,” Delphi shrugged. “I don’t really have any other life ambitions than what I’m about to do now.”

“What is that?”

Delphi flashed a grin. “Monologuing and murder.”

Draco walked across the room and leant against the worksurface. He nodded at Delphi and she pulled herself up to sit on the kitchen table. She smiled.

“How long did your son take to recover from what I did to him?” she asked, crossing her legs.

“Years.”

“Be more specific.”

“He still has nightmares.”

Delphi laughed. “I hope you feel guilty.”

“Why would I feel guilty?”

“Because you had the power to stop it. If you’d looked a little harder, if you’d gotten over your pride and told them about me, you’d only have one emotionally stunted mess on your hands, rather than however many I created.”

“You’re hung up on–”

“Yes!” Delphi snapped. “Yes, I am. Because I spent twenty two years darting in and out of various shadows to survive for long enough to do something that fucked up so many people. You had the opportunity to stop your son from being hurt. You had the opportunity to save the little girl who can still remember you if she tries hard enough. But you didn’t take it. So instead I have spent nearly forty years alone and afraid.  
“I’m not asking for your sympathy. Fuck knows I won’t get it, even if I did want it. But I want you to know that I hate you. I want you to know exactly how much I hate you and how much I want to hurt you. And I can hurt you. You’re not the person you used to be, Draco Malfoy. You want to live. You have reasons not to sacrifice yourself. You don’t want to die anymore. I don’t have to hurt your son to hurt you. I don’t care about causing you long-term pain when I won’t get to watch. I just want you gone. I want you gone knowing that all of it was preventable. I don’t need to hurt your son. I just need to kill you, and maybe myself too.”

“The Ministry are going to be here in a moment,” Draco said. “They thought you might come after me, so they gave me an alarm to set off. You have a minute, maybe less.”

“Well, then,” Delphi floated upwards, “let’s hope this doesn’t take long.”

The magic started to flow through Delphi’s hair first. It lifted her ponytail up until it floated in the air and she grinned at Draco. She closed her eyes, raising her head to the ceiling and starting to pulse the magic through her body. She felt each spark dance through her veins, until it burst through her skin and jumped around the room. Each little piece found its way through another crack in the brickwork of the room, until Delphi had parts of herself and her consciousness spread through every part of the room.

She allowed to anger to flood her body. She focussed on every time she had ever wanted something different, every time she had ever hated herself for being weak, or for wanting to stop hurting people, every time the world had left her for dead and she had clawed herself back. And then she put it into the perspective of knowing it could have all been avoided.

The room exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second in 24 hours? Who?? Admittedly I wrote 70% of it in the middle of the night and then had to correct a ton of it.
> 
> Not a long notes section for now. I'm tired.
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Fuck TERFs  
> Black Lives Matter


	4. Personal Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After they return from 1981, Harry becomes increasingly obsessive about doing his paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: references to trauma (non explicit)
> 
> Content Warnings: unhealthy obsessing
> 
> Fairly trigger free today, it seems.

Harry glanced over at the clock on the wall, shutting his office door with a flick of his wand and starting to read through a fresh pile of paperwork. Ginny wouldn’t be surprised if he got home late. He’d done it enough in the last two or three weeks that she would be fast asleep by the time he arrived home, considered making himself dinner before just collapsing into bed.

After returning from 1981, it had taken Harry about five hours of solid working to process all of the paperwork on his desk. Since then, he had kept on top of it with a fervour that had drawn compliments from almost everyone that had to deal with his admin skills. The only person who hadn’t said anything was Hermione, but they hadn’t really seen each other. Rooting out the remnants of Delphi’s plans had taken separate actions from both of them and not left much time for casual conversation.

Harry pulled forward a file full of concerns about small threats, darting over it with a quill and covering the parchment in notes. He specified potential actions for each on a separate sheet, and marked each case that might link to Delphi with a green star. There were three, and Harry knew that the Ministry had followed up at least two of them already. The third would not be difficult. He could assign it to a Junior Auror when they arrived in the morning.

The office door opened and Harry was about to tell them to knock, leave, make an appointment, and let him carry on working, when he saw Hermione closing the door behind her. Harry went back to his paperwork. If she wanted to talk, she would talk, and he would pay attention.

“You kept your promise,” Hermione murmured.

“Hm?” Harry didn’t look up.

“You’re on top of your paperwork.”

“Oh, yes. Well, it was about time.”

“Hm.” Pause. “I think you should take some time of off.”

Harry looked up now, expecting to see some sort of joking smile on Hermione’s face, but she appeared to be completely serious. He dropped his quill. The ink splashed out from the nib and splattered across the sheets he’d been writing on. He grabbed his wand and cleaned it up, before looking at Hermione again.

“Time off? You can’t be serious.”

“Albus and Scorpius are coming home from Hogwarts a week early. Take a week off. Spend time with him.”

Harry picked up his quill again. “Albus isn’t coming home. He said he’s behind and wants to catch up on schoolwork. We can’t really make him come home and he’s fairly adamant about his decision.”

“I still think you should take a week.”

“Why?” Harry frowned. “Everyone’s been asking me to be on top of my paperwork for years and I’m finally getting it under control. Is that what this is about?”

“People asked you to be on top of your paperwork,” Hermione nodded, “but no one else stays behind every night combing through every detail for information.”

“You would if you were slower.”

“I am the only one who reads all of their paperwork in this much detail. Everyone else skims for an idea of what’s going on. You weren’t reading any before, but Harry, this is worrying.”

“I don’t intend to let anything of that scale happen again,” Harry muttered. “Now, if you don’t mind, Hermione, I have another stack to get through before I head home tonight.”

“Harry, I’m worried about you. Ginny too. We think you should think about seeing a Mind-Healer again.”

“No,” Harry snapped. “No. I don’t have a problem. This is solving a problem. I don’t need to see a Mind-Healer.”

“Then what’s this? Harry, your behaviour is significantly different so what is this about?”

Harry clenched his left hand into a fist and looked away from Hermione. She wanted an answer and he had very little intention of admitting the truth. She could guess it if she tried hard enough, though perhaps that would have been more patronising.

“Giants with winged tattoos?” he looked up. “Trolls and Graphorns? Even some of the werewolves had some semblance of what was going on.”

“Harry, we’re all grateful when you do a better job at your work, but this is obsessive.”

“Maybe I should have been obsessive before.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I had done my paperwork properly, maybe we would have picked up on Delphi before she had ever gained traction, and she would never have kidnapped Albus and Scorpius.”

“No one picked up on it. You’re not the only one with access to these files–”

“But I am the head of Magical Law Enforcement. Hierarchy would dictate that I should be the best at the job. I’ve read the older files and it’s very obvious. It was a subtle threat that I should have caught because it would have alluded junior Aurors. I am responsible for what happened. I do not intend to let it happen again.”

Hermione didn’t say anything.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I need to finish my paperwork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year or something. IDK. Time moves and I think I'm still here.  
> Nearly came out to my dad today (and then he somehow managed to go backwards in referring to trans people properly so I revised that decision).
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Fuck JKR  
> Fuck TERFs  
> Black Lives Still Matter


	5. Weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an escape from Azkaban, Delphi takes Albus and Scorpius again, with the intention of leaving a final mark on him before she disappears forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: mild injury description, non-graphic violence, discussion of trauma
> 
> Content Warning: None
> 
> This is also the product of a prompt by @_writing_ideas_ - they're a great page on Instagram. Would really recommend checking them out.

"I'm not looking," Albus  closed his eyes despite the swelling and bruises that sent aches across his skin . "I'm not looking at  what you’ve done ."   


"Really? I would have thought you'd want to see what happened. You are claiming to be in love with him, after all."   


"I am in love with him. But I have no  intention of letting you manipulate me. I remember you, Delphini. I know what tricks you like to play. "   


"I'm not trying to manipulate you anymore," Delphi crouched beside him. "I know your father as the incessant prick that he is. Whatever state the Ministry is in, he will still devote all of his resources to finding  you. You only have to survive this for about twelve more hours. You might make it out of here alive, even."   


"Scorpius and I are both going to make it out of here alive."   


Delphi chuckled. "You two are always so confident to begin with. It's really - it's honestly sw eet. Thinking that you hold any power at all."   


"We won before," Albus snapped. "We beat you, and they'll catch you this time. You just said it yourself."   


"I did," Delphi murmured, "but that doesn't mean you have to be alive when that happens."

Delphi seize d Albus' arm and pulled him to his feet. She pinned his forearms behind his back, laughing when he cried out in pain. She pushed him out of the room and along the corridor with a small grin. She pushed him into another room with a huge window along one of  the windows. Albus turned his head away from it. He didn't want to see this. He didn't need to see this. 

Delphi pulled him closer to the glass, running a hand beneath his chin as she smiled at him. Albus looked down.    


"You're weak," Delphi mused. "The bot h of you. Neither of you seem to realize how much you could accomplish if you just moved on from one another. I know you want to.  You wanted to last time we met."   


"I didn't," Albus snapped . "I don't now. I would do anything for him."   


"Oh, my mistake. I'll  have to correct myself."

She grinned at him before twisting him  around and slamming him face first into the window. Albus shut his eyes before he could focus again, bashing his free hand against the glass. Delphi smirked and she raised her lips to his ear to whisper how he could not be heard or seen. Albus kept his eyes shut and Delphi pushed him harder, twisting his arm into his back   


“Look at him.”

Albus let out a groan of pain, finally opening his eyes to see Scorpius curled up, back against the wall, in a small room. Even in the low light, Albus could see the cuts across his face and the bruises and the swelling and the shaking. He was crying, sobbing even. Albus screamed his name, over and over until his throat had gone hoarse and the only sounds left were Delphi’s maniacal cackles. She let go of Albus’ arms and he landed on the floor. He dragged his hands through his hair, tearing himself between the need to look at Scorpius again, and the knowledge that he needed to think and seeing Scorpius in that state would not help.

He looked up at Delphi, eyes gleaming with tears. She sat down opposite him and crossed her legs and started to fiddle with the cuffs and hems of her clothes.   


“He told me things,” she said casually. “Well, no, I suppose that’s not accurate. I pulled things  from his head. And that would make them more true because there’s no lying on the inside of your head.”   


“I don’t care,” Albus muttered. “You’re a liar.”   


“He wants to break up with you,” Delphi said. “He hates how you still struggle, how you can’t move on.”   


“He’s still struggling.”   


“But he’s got real issues. Dead mother. Torture victim–”   


“Because of you.”   


“Yes, but he’s still the one with real problems. You’re just an irritating tag-along. A weak little thing he can’t work out how to drop.”

Albus shook his head. He didn’t believe it. He shouldn’t have believed it because it was contrary to everything Scorpius had ever told him.

But then again, Scorpius was good at lying. He had a lifetime of pretending he was okay. 

And it would make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So should I be asleep while writing this? Yes. Yes I absolutely should. Am I listening to a new album and also don't want to be exposed to my own thoughts so I am doing this until I actually pass out. Or until I finish the album.
> 
> A note on the current coup taking place in the US. Yes it's a coup. If you agree with the terrorists storming the Capitol, kindly get the fuck off my page. I can't block people on here, so just piss off.
> 
> Another note: don't play Devil's Advocate or genuinely invalidate a person's experience with mental illness just because you haven't seen the full picture. If this is considered normal, why do the only people who understand me exist within spaces where everyone is mentally ill.
> 
> Thanks for reading.  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> BLACK LIVES MATTER. THEY FUCKING MATTER. THEY SHOULD NOT BE ANY DIFFERENT. IF YOU ARE SHOOTING AT PEACEFUL BLM PROTESTORS, WHY ARE YOU NOT SHOOTING AT THE COUP TAKING PLACE IN THE CAPITOL.  
> I mean we can all see the double standards. If you support the current Republican party, please fuck off. I'm trying to create a safe space for marginalised peoples. We dont really want fascism.  
> Fuck TERFs


	6. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoria and Draco have been dating for a few months, but Astoria still has a secret she is concealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: discussion of illness 
> 
> This is more hurt/comfort but here we are

Astoria smiled as Draco took her hand and they walked out into the street. They didn't speak as they walked back towards the village Floo point, simply remaining content in one another's company, and content in the lack of recognition they were afforded in places this quiet.

Over the course of their dating for around six months, they had discovered that if they wanted to have a peaceful evening, small villages were best. Astoria preferred them anyway. There was something distinctly fantastical about little English villages in the evenings. They possessed the sort of magic that Muggles described in their stories. Traditional magic with romanticized fairies and beauty and no sort of darkness that could creep into their pictures. Astoria spent hours reading Muggle stories about magic, with their painted illustrations of chubby, winged things balancing on toadstools as the sunlight streamed down through the trees behind them.

The Floo point around here was situated five minutes’ walk outside of the village, in an oddly placed Telephone Box. It was usually here that the pair would bid one another goodnight, and their letters over the next week would reflect how much they had both enjoyed the evening. The next date would be organised in the week after that, and would take place in the third week. Astoria didn’t know when they had settled into this pattern, but she loved it.

She loved it, and she loved Draco. She had told him so. He had replied with the same. They were happy. Draco had even implied they should think about the next steps in their relationship, meaning that Astoria had panicked. Despite being six months into dating and a year into friendship, Astoria had not yet mentioned the small problem of a terminal malediction that would kill her before she reached the end of middle age. She didn’t know how to bring it up on a date, and she didn’t want to bring it up in a letter; it needed to happen in person. She just hadn’t done it yet.

Astoria and Draco bid goodnight to one another as she stepped into the Floo point and spoke the name of the small flat she rented. She smiled as Draco waved goodbye, seconds before she was sucked into the fireplace system.

* * *

_5 th June_

_Darling Astoria,_

_As always, I enjoyed last night immensely. Each time I think we might get bored of the doing the same things on each date, you bring up another debate or discussion that I know I could spend eternity talking with you about, if only eternity had time to accommodate us. I hope you share this feeling (though if you don’t, I’m open to trying some different types of dates). My evenings with you are the best parts of my life, not just at the moment, but they are the best points in my life as a whole. When I am not with you, or writing to you, you still consume my thoughts in a way that I cannot work out how to describe in words._

_I have never fallen in love before, and I never wish to fall in love again, because what I feel for you is the best part of perfection, at least to me. You are the light in my life and I hope that you have the same feelings. Not because I’m insisting you must love or whatever (I am_ not _my father). I just want you to be happy. Of everyone in this world, you are one of the most deserving of happiness._

_I should keep this short, because work is calling and I really can’t lose this job – no verbal abuse is a nice change._

_Love Draco xxx_

* * *

_7 th June_

_Darling Astoria,_

_You didn’t reply to my last letter (of course you’re under no obligation to), but I just wanted to make sure you were okay and you hadn’t gotten food poisoning or anything! Sorry. Bad joke. But yes, I won’t get sappy today. Just a short note to check if you’re okay?_

_Love Draco xxx_

* * *

_9 th June_

_Astoria,_

_I am beginning to get concerned now. I’m trying not to be invasive, but you’ve never left it this long without writing before. At least not without an explanation. If there’s something you want to talk about, about our relationship, please could we meet in person and discuss it properly? Or could you acknowledge that you’re seeing these and that you’re okay? I’m just very worried about you and I don’t want you to be in some sort of danger and nobody know what’s going on._

_Draco xxx_

* * *

_12 th June_

_No one has heard from you in a week now. Are you okay?_

* * *

Astoria groaned as she heard her front door open and her sister called her name. She groaned something back about being in bed and rolled up to see Daphne, laden with grocery bags, staring at her in an irritated manner from the doorway.

“Care to tell me why I had Draco Malfoy on my doorstep twenty minutes ago?” she dropped the bags and glided across to the curtains, which she promptly tore open. “He said you haven’t replied to any of his letters since your last date. You adore this man. Why are you ghosting him?” Before Astoria could work out an answer, her sister turned around and noted her tearstained face. “Astoria,” her voice softened. “What’s going on? Are you ill? Why didn’t you call? How long have been in bed?”

“Not long,” Astoria grumbled. “I’m not ill. I still have work so personal hygiene is still in full swing.”

“Good,” Daphne sat down beside her. “So why did Draco show up? Gave Blaise quite a shock, I can tell you.”

Astoria stared at the ceiling. “Draco wants to move the relationship forward.”  
“Do you not want to? Because if you need to me–”

“I do,” Astoria interrupted. “I do want to move things forward. I just haven’t told him…” she faltered. “I haven’t told him about the curse.”

Daphne processed this. “So you ghosted him for a week?”

“I panicked. I think. I’m not really sure. I did read the letters…”

“You just ignored them,” Daphne nodded. Silence. “Are you just worried about telling him?”

“He deserves so much more than me,” Astoria sat up and drew her knees up to her chest. “He deserves someone he can grow old with and who isn’t going to suffer a horrible death in twenty years-time.”

“But you also deserve to be happy, Astoria. You shouldn’t give it up when you don’t necessarily know what he wants.”

“I don’t want him to make a decision he’ll regret. Even if he says he won’t. He will.”

“He was very worried about you,” Daphne said quietly, “and I’d wager that you like him as much as he likes you.”

Astoria smiled as tears traced their way down her cheeks. “I love him,” she whispered. “I love him more than anyone I’ve ever loved. I don’t want to lose him – I _can’t_ lose him. But I don’t want to trap him in something he’ll regret or something he’ll resent. I should let him go. I should break up with him. Shouldn’t I?”

Tears dripped from Astoria’s chin and landed on the back of her hands as she watched Daphne work through everything she had said, from the declaration of love to the escalation in fear. She glanced over at the photo of Draco Astoria kept tucked into her mirror and smiled at her sister.

“I think you should tell him today.”

Astoria stared. “What?”

“You have a conversation opener – it’s an explanation for why you were avoiding him. And if you both want to move things forward, he’s going to have to find out at some point. If you love him, I think now is a good time to tell him.”

“How?”

“Write it down? Say it aloud after practising in the mirror? Ramble your way through and then panic? It doesn’t matter how, as long as you go to his flat this afternoon and talk to him.”

“What if he hates me now? What if he doesn’t trust me to tell the truth? What if he breaks up with me?”

“I sincerely doubt that is going to happen,” Daphne smiled. “He was a mess when he showed up earlier.”

Astoria nodded, thudding back into her pillow with a sigh. She pulled the duvet over her head, drawing out a laugh from her sister, and she groaned. She had somehow backed herself into a worse corner than the one she’d been in before. Now, the idea of telling Draco over a candlelit dinner didn’t seem nearly as bad. But no, Daphne was (irritatingly) right. Draco deserved an explanation, and Astoria had created a way to give it. So she would.

Before Astoria could move to climb out of bed and find something to change into, she heard a voice echoing through from the other room and collapsed back onto the mattress.

“Astoria, is everything okay? Your front door is open.”

“You left my door open?” Astoria hissed at Daphne.

“Sorry,” Daphne shrugged. She made her way across the room and picked up the grocery bags. “We’re in here, Draco.”

Astoria made sure she was sat in some sort of generally presentable fashion as Draco stepped into the doorway, holding a small bouquet of balloon flowers and forget-me-nots. Astoria couldn’t help but smile as her eyes filled with tears. Merlin, this bit would be hard.

“Hi,” Astoria said in a very small voice.

“Hi,” Draco smiled back. “How are you? Are you okay?”

Astoria didn’t answer before he sister suggested, in a tone that came as more of an order, that he should sit down. He perched on the dressing table seat, putting the flowers on the floor and looking back at the sisters. Astoria opened her mouth to speak, to apologise and to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, moments of Draco getting angry or storming out flashed through her head and her hands started to shake. She looked at Daphne for support, pointing to her, and then to Draco. She mouthed a word: please.

“Astoria has a Blood Malediction,” Daphne spoke softly. “It’s an ancestral one, and it’s bad. Healers have predicted it will end her life before she is significantly into middle age.”

“I’m sorry,” Astoria mumbled. “I should have told you, or replied to a letter or something. I know I’ve messed up in the last week. Thank you for respecting my space, though. I just – I didn’t know how to tell you this.”

“Did you think I’d react badly?”

“I don’t want to trap you in a relationship with someone you wouldn’t get to grow old with. I couldn’t have children. And the curse, when it hits, it’s not pretty. The signs are very mild, and then it hits and I only have about three or four minutes before it becomes unbearable. I haven’t got time to take all the necessary potions so I have a charm that alerts Daphne or my parents so that someone can help me. The pain is awful, through my whole body. I’m sick. I hallucinate so much I can’t tell what’s fake or real. It’s not pretty. It’s not fun. And it’s just going to get worse. I don’t want you to have to deal with something like me. You deserve so much more.”

“But you didn’t break up with me?”

“Because I love you,” Astoria’s eyes filled with tears again. “Fuck. I love you and I would be happy to spend the rest of my life with you. But I don’t want you to have to do the same.”

Draco sat back on the seat, processing everything Astoria had said as she reached for a tissue in a drawer beside her. Daphne smiled at her and nodded in a way that made sure Astoria knew she had done the right thing.

“When I met you,” Draco started to speak, “I didn’t think I deserved anything other than pain. I thought I deserved all of the abuse and the hate because I had helped to hurt people and that was only fair. You taught me that I still deserved love, that I could love someone and they would love me back without my feeling guilty over it. I love you. I am happy to spend the rest of my life with you, and if we don’t have as long as I thought we did, then I will have to make every day more special than I had originally planned. And don’t worry about children now, love. We’re six months in, and it’s not something we need to think about yet. If my father wants us to, I will happily fight him off.”

Astoria giggled, biting her lip and looking down at the duvet as Draco pulled the chair closer. He took her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Daphne excused herself and Astoria said a quick thank you before turning back to Draco. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” she murmured. “I should have done better.”

“I forgive you,” Draco smiled. “It’s a huge thing. I won’t pretend I wasn’t upset, but I understand. I’m not angry.”

Astoria nodded. “Could I add you to that emergency spell? I can teach you which potions I’d need, and there’s a sheet somewhere.”

“Of course,” Draco paused. “I was thinking – do you want to move in with me? We could get a flat together. And I mean, I know we’ve only been dating for six months but–”

“I would love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as it turns out, school cannot tell when you're in burnout, and when you tell them, will not do anything helpful at all.
> 
> Yes this is aimed at all my teachers who were demanding proper participation over Teams today (possibly because I was not contributing and it therefore looked as if half the class had gone - I'm an overachiever). 
> 
> Can schools stop assuming their students are fine because they haven't explicitly stated they're not. Students won't tell you. Especially not when you have a history of calling home when you don't need to (I've checked) and guilt tripping students about stuff. Just fuck off.
> 
> Sincerely, the person who spent much of their time under multiple blankets on the floor crying and screaming
> 
> Hi
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Fuck TERFs  
> Black Lives Matter  
> Feed children properly (looking at you Chartwells and Tories)


	7. Losing A Loved One / Mourn Me Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus goes to visit Draco, weeks after returning, alone, from travelling in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: major character death, discussion of death and trauma, suicidal ideation

Albus pulled the doorbell and stood back a few feet. He rested a hand on the trunk at his side and blinked back the tears already appearing in his eyes. This would probably be harder than he had anticipated, but the feeling of being outside helped. A bit.  He hadn't been outside since the funeral.

He'd been encouraged to. Merlin, they hadn't stopped suggesting it. 'Go out in the garden.' 'A bit of fresh air will do you some good.' 'You have to come out of your room at some point.' At this point Albus wanted  to leave simply so that he could grieve somewhere else, find some sort of peace.

Draco probably wouldn't want to see him. He would probably take the trunk and ask Albus to leave. He would trudge back to the Floo point in the village and spend the rest of t he day under his duvet as he went between happy memories and sobbing.  Maybe he would eat dinner. He doubted it. He never wanted to anymore, but his parents insisted sometimes. Although, even they were starting to understand there were some days when that d idn’t make a difference.

The door opened  and Albus looked up to see a disheveled Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway. He had evidently tried to keep his appearance half-formal, but the effect had not come through. His hair had been pulled back into a scragg ly ponytail and his jumper did not suit the stereotypical image of Draco Malfoy. Albus couldn’t blame him. He probably looked much the same. Certainly, he felt how Draco looked.   


“Albus,” Draco croaked, “what are you doing here?”   


“I went back to school,” Albu s mumbled. “I picked up all – all of Scorpius’ stuff. I didn’t want it sat around there anymore. I thought – I thought you might want it?”   
Draco nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

His words were clipped, sharp and harsh, but not in an unpleasant way. More in a way  that Albus looked at him and understood all of it. The exhaustion, the emptiness behind the eyes, the not caring what you looked like anymore, because it didn’t really matter.   


“Did you parents bring you?” Draco glanced behind Albus.   


“No. I Flooed into the  village and walked up.”   


“You could have Flooed here.”   


“I didn’t know whether you’d want to see me.”

Draco considered this for a moment. He stepped down to pick up the trunk from where Albus had put it down, and then stood out of the way and beckoned Albus  inside. Albus went. His eyes filled with tears within moments, seeing the large picture on the wall. Scorpius had told him about that. A painting of him and his parents. Draco had placed a thin black material over it. Part of Albus wondered how long it had been there.

He followed Draco downstairs to the kitchen, hovering when Draco didn’t make any moves in a particular direction. They stood in awkward silence for about a minute before Draco remembered what he was doing and gestured to the table, muttering s omething about tea. Albus didn’t stop him. He sat down at the table and deliberately kept himself from looking at all the family photos on the dresser and the fridge. Draco sat down opposite him a few minutes later, pushing a mug with a teabag across the t able. Albus thanked him, though he did not immediately pick it up, seeing the steaming water dripping down the sides of the mug.   


“I haven’t even been in his room,” Draco admitted. “I can’t bring myself to open the door.”   


“I’m sorry.”   


“It wasn’t your fault. ”

Albus disagreed. He had disagreed the night it had happened, when he had reappeared on the Quidditch Pitch, clutching at his friend’s lifeless body, and he disagreed now, weeks later. He had pleaded with Scorpius to come with. He had dragged his friend i nto the mud with him. He could have done it without Scorpius, and he would have died, but at least Scorpius would still have been around. At least he wouldn't have been caught in a crossfire.   


"She controlled all of it. Your father found traces of magic tha t she used to wake you up so you would overhear the conversation with him and Amos. She orchestrated all of it. She is the reason Scorpius is - is gone."   


"I should have still died," Albus muttered. "That was what he thought was going to happen. That's the  only reason I even agreed to do what he suggested. I thought it would be both of us. That's why I let him - do what he did."   


"No," Draco's voice sharpened. "You don't get to wish that."   


"What?"   


"What did he say to you?"

Albus didn’t want to answer. He did not want to revisit that night and the memories that came with it. Who would want to? No one had asked him to yet. They could all get the gist from his hysterical ramblings, nightmares, and the dead body he'd been clutching when they'd found him. No one had ever asked for details. No one had ever tried to disturb the memories. 

Albus took a deep breath in. If one person deserved to know the details, it was Draco. Having it might make it worse, but that was his risk to take, not Albus'. At the very least, having some idea of why his son had disappeared in the night and turned up dead might bring him some start to closure. Maybe.

"He said - he said I wouldn't have to mourn him long because she would kill me too. That's why I agreed. Because he thought we were both going to die. We would both go – go on together."

Draco sat back in his seat, processing Albus' words with a small nod to himself. "I doubt he really believed that."

"What?"

"Scorpius has always been a selfless child. It's how he spent his childhood, and it grew with him. When he was little, sometimes we'd have nice plans, for his birthday, or just for general days out. Half the time, something would happen and Astoria would take a bad turn and we'd have to cancel last minute or go home. Scorpius always had a quiet understanding. He never put up a fuss, even when he was upset. He knew why it happened, and he knew we'd try to make up for it another time. I imagine, when he said that, he said it so that you would accept it as a plan. He wouldn't have wanted you to die."

"You're just saying that though."

"I'm not." Silence. "Albus, look at me." Another silence. "When he came back from his first term at school, he talked about everything: lessons and the castle and watching Quidditch and everything else. But the one thing he wouldn't shut up about was you. He never stopped babbling about the incredible friend he'd made and how kind you were and how you were  always there for him when he got bullied. He loved you. He knew what he was doing, and I doubt he would have had any hard feelings, knowing that you survived. He would be happy that you made it out."

"Haven't done anything with it."

"You're grieving. That's natural."

"Can I help with his room? When you start?"

Albus didn't know where the confidence for that question had come from. He didn't even know whether it was something he wanted to do. He'd not spent much time in Scorpius' room. It wasn't as if it was a 'special place' for the two of them. However, a part of him needed it. Desperately.

"Of course you can. And my home is always open if you need to turn up."

"Thank you."

"I think I might make a start in a few minutes. If that's okay."

Albus nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we are now diving into the darker parts of my head because there is something wrong with me. I hope someone cried over this. It's always gratifying when I manage to make someone cry.  
> I am: tired, but alive.  
> Coming back to this note that I wrote thinking I would finish this a week ago lol.  
> Little bit of a super muse on my WIP, I'm really hoping y'all are gonna like it because I've put so much work it (of course I'm nowhere near done yet)
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Black Lives Matter  
> Fuck TERFs  
> Fuck Sia. Do not watch Music.


	8. Refusing To Fight Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy wakes up in a room, alone and restrained, aware he has been kidnapped. The hours pass, until his captor steps into the room. And suddenly, he isn't surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: References to past character death, kidnap and restraint
> 
> Content warning: anger, shouting, attacks

Teddy opened his eyes as the bag disappeared from over his head. It took a moment to adjust to the thin glare of white light coming from what looked like a gap in the window shutters. He twisted his hands to find they were bound with some sort of thick, un comfortable rope. Not with magic. In fact, he couldn't feel any magic in his surroundings at all. 

He adjusted himself so that he was kneeling and tried to catch the glint of any object he might be able to use as a weapon in his immediate surroundings. He  couldn't see anything. They had taken his wand, meaning that someone had used magic to get him here. He didn't know who. There hadn't been any threats sent to the Auror Office.

Teddy started to shrink his wrists as much as he could to slip them through the ropes. He probably didn't have a way out the room, but having his hands to defend himself was better than nothing. The ropes shrunk with him. So, the person who had kidnapped him new he was a Metamorphagus. That shrunk the potential list quite a lot.

Tedd y didn't let himself fall asleep again while he waited. Every time he felt as though the dark and the warmth would overwhelm him, he would pace up and down, or scrabble with the window shutters. Anything to keep himself awake and alert and ready to fight at a moment's notice.

A door opened a few hours lat er. Teddy pushed himself up against the wall, preparing to launch himself forward in an attack before the door closed again. He stopped only as he saw who had stepped into the room and his stomach dropped. 

He hadn't see James for nearly a year. His hair had grow n out past his shoulders, but he'd tied it up in a bun that reminded Teddy of Bill Weasley. He'd also bleached it to a blond colour that didn't entirely suit him, but given how messily it had been applied, Teddy doubted that it had been done to look good.  He looked exhausted. He'd lost weight, but hadn't bought more clothes. He didn't seem to have slept much, given the bags under his eyes.

None of it stopped Teddy's eyes filling with tears. He hadn't seen James since he'd disappeared from their flat in the middle of the night, without leaving so much as a note. Teddy had almost known it was coming, given everything James had said and done, but nothing h ad prepared him for that loss. In the same way that nothing could prepare him for the hatred in James' eyes.

Teddy lent back against the wall, sliding down to the floor as James slammed the door and snapped his fingers. The burst of light made Teddy cringe , but he forced himself not to move. He met James' eyes and offered him half a smile.   


"It's nice to see–"   


"Quiet."   


"Did you do this?"   


"I said quiet!"

James raised his voice this time and Teddy closed his mouth. James started to play with his wand, continua lly glancing over at Teddy as he lent against the wall. Teddy smiled again. It may have been a year, but he still knew what James looked like when he was happy. He still knew what James looked like when he was scared. He still  knew  James.   


"Your mum misses  you," he offered.   


"She stopped writing."   


"She knew you needed space. But she really misses you. ”   


“Didn’t look for me.”   


“You made it fairly clear you didn’t want to be found.” Silence. “What are you doing, James? What do you want?”   


“I want you to understand exactly how I feel. All of you. All of you who watched it happen and then just carried on.”   


“We didn’t carry–”   


“You forgave him!” James screamed. “It was his fault and you all just forgave him!”

Teddy didn’t reply. He had explanations. He had reasons why he had done what he’d done. He could tell James, but James didn’t want to listen. James hadn’t wanted to listen at the time. He wouldn’t want to listen now. He waited as James pulled out his wand and waved it with a quiet mutter to himself. Teddy frowned as the ropes around his wrists disappeared and he stared down at them.

"Since you all love him so much, maybe you'd be happy to represent him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Fight me."

"You all still worship him like he saved the world. So fight me."

"James, we don't - things have changed since you left."

"Not much."

"Why do you want to fight me? I thought you cared about me."

"I did!" James let out a violent cry. "I did care about you, but then you all decided that he hadn't done the wrong thing. He killed my brother and none of you blamed him! So stop being such a fucking coward and fight me!"

Teddy looked down again as his wand appeared in his hand. He looked back at James, seeing the hurt and pain that had taken root in the depths of his soul, the hatred manifesting with each second that passed. Teddy dropped his wand on the floor and kicked it back across to James. James frowned, raising his own, and Teddy met his gaze. He offered him a small smile, but made no attempt to surrender or be aggressive. James' anger deepened.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not going to hurt you. Or fight you. It won't fix anything."

"Oh," James' tone turned mocking, "are you going to tell me this isn't what Albus would have wanted?"

"You already know it's not what he wanted."

"You're not doing what he wanted either."

"You left. You don't know what I've been doing."

"I watched. I was watching the whole time."

"You stalked us. How charming."

"Fight me."

"No."

James shot a hex across the space. Teddy dodged it, watching it soar pass him before he looked back at James. James narrowed his eyes and threw another hex. And then another. And then another. Teddy dodged each one. He wasn't concerned about getting hit when James' aim was getting worse and worse with each spell.

James kept telling him to fight back. He kept shouting the words, over and over and over and over, until his voice had risen to a shrill scream and he had pinned Teddy against the wall. He jabbed his wand into Teddy's neck as he roared the words again. Teddy didn't move. James collapsed again him, sobbing into his neck. His wand slipped from his fingers and he wrapped his arms around Teddy's shoulders. 

As much as Teddy knew that he shouldn't bend to James after he had, in effect, kidnapped and attacked him. But at the same time, he had spent a year without the man he loved, and James was mourning. James hadn't known how to cope with everything that had happened, and this had been the result.  It didn't matter that it had been a year. Teddy still knew James, and he still that this was James at his most fearful, his most vulnerable. Teddy wrapped his arms around James and lowered him onto the ground. They remained there as James cried. Teddy didn't need to say anything. The words moved between them without a sound.

James retreated from Teddy, looking his in the eye. Teddy smiled. James swallowed and looked away. Teddy wiped the tears from his cheeks and ran a hand through his hair. He stopped when James flinched, waiting for James to make the next move.

"I'm sorry," he croaked. "I'm so sorry." Silence. "I just want him gone. I hate him so much. He should be dead, not Albus. Albus didn't deserve this. It was his fault. He shouldn't be head of Magical Law Enforcement. He shouldn't have any power left."

"Things have changed since you left. It's quiet, but we need to gather adequate evidence before we can turn around and ruin him. But we're working on it. The inquiries into Albus' death are starting to come back. They all point to him because of course they do." Pause. "Your mum's divorcing him."

James looked up. "What?"

"She'd been thinking about it before you left, but she was sure about it afterwards. She kicked him out and she's divorcing him. Hermione's waiting for the results to come out to fire him. She's already asked him to resign. He refused. She's just waiting for the overwhelming evidence before she demolishes him."

"I'm sorry," James mumbled. "I should have stayed. I should have waited."

"You were angry and you were scared. We should have seen it coming, if I'm honest."

"I've really fucked this up, haven't I?" James smiled bitterly.

"Not irredeemably."

"I kidnapped you."

"And if they try to arrest you or charge you, I will organize your defense and testify in your favour."

"Why?"

"Because I've missed you so much. I love you, and I understand, I understood from the moment you walked in here, why you've done this. I forgive you. Your actions are, to be fancy, indicative of a much larger problem, and why should that problem make it out the other side if you don't."

James didn't say anything. He rested his head against Teddy's chest as Teddy wrapped his arms around him again.

"Come home," he murmured. "Your mum really misses you. Just come home. See her. You don't have to announce it to the world. You don't even have to tell him. But please come home."

James nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes. The planning for this went from Jeddy kidnapped, to Dark James, to emotionally stunted James, and I rather like that progression. Moving away from the cliched to the painful. Plus I did plan extra scenes where James came home, but they wouldn't fit this properly.  
> Yes I am an overachiever.
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273
> 
> Black Lives Matter  
> Fuck TERFs  
> Do not give any money to Sia


End file.
